Disclaimer and other things: I've never posted fanfiction before, ever, so I'm not sure of the protocol. First off, these characters are from Jun Mochizuki's Pandora Hearts. Obviously, I didn't create them. I'm not that good. They belong to her as does the plot of Pandora Hearts, which I reference now and then. This opening scene is based on the scene where Sharon first finds Break. It's an expansion of the scene from the manga from Sharon's POV. However, there are some lines toward the end of that first scene that are taken directly from the English translation by Yen Press. It's where Sharon is freaking out and Reim is telling her she shouldn't be there. I thought about changing it, but couldn't figure out a way of doing it that wouldn't end up sounding weird. It's just a few lines, and the rest of the story I'm writing either doesn't appear in the manga or is only referenced, not shown [edit] OR only describes the scene that occurs in the manga with no direct dialogue quotes (for example: Break speaking with Sheryl Rainsworth)...only exception so far is chap. 5 where I use one line.[/edit] Though I've tried to stay true to canon, mostly, I reserve the right to deviate if I think it'll work in the story I'm writing. Finally, though I kind of like the name Regnard, I've decided to follow the "official" English translation and use Legnard.

If I've missed anything in the disclaimer, please let me know.

Oh, one final thing...I have very little idea where this is going. I usually write the story out first completely instead of working chapter by chapter. Here, I'm only a few chapters ahead. But then, this whole thing is an experiment for me.

Okay, okay...I'll shut up now. :)

Sharon taps Reim-san on the back and giggles. "Tag! You're it!" Whirling away before he can react, she giggles madly as she races down the stairs.

"I told you, I'm not playing!" he yells back.

She keeps running. He'll join her soon. He always does. And this time, she will hide in a place where no one can find her, a place they'll never think to look because she isn't supposed to be there.

Further down into the mansion she races. Torches line the halls now, and silence fills the corridors. The sound of her footsteps slows as she approaches the final staircase. At the bottom, she turns and watches the steps, listening for the sound of anyone who might have followed her.

She has no fear. She has been told the Door they guard won't open to her and so her only fear, in her eight year old mind, is of being caught.

Won't they be surprised? Thinking this, she smiles and covers her mouth so she won't giggle.

Noises on the stairwell. Reim has followed her. Excitement makes her back quickly away from the stairs and toward the Door. It's okay. It won't open for her.

Her foot catches and she trips.

Landing on her back, she wonders what could be here. From what she's been told, nothing is kept in this room.

Unless...she looks at what she tripped over, terrified that a Chain has managed to escape.

An arm. An arm dressed in a sleeve unfamiliar to her daily life, but that looks almost aristocratic. She scrambles to her feet. In the distance, she hears Reim complaining but the arm holds her attention.

No one else is supposed to be here.

Her gaze moves from the arm to the rest of whoever this is. Her breath quickens. A man lay on the stone floor, in clothes she has only seen on the stage, on actors playing characters from long ago. But that isn't what makes her breath quicken. Blood covers the man's face and chest. It spots his clothes and...if she looks at his white hair, at the patch of hair the blood has turned scarlet..."Reim!" Her scream echoes in the nearly empty room. "Reim-san! Hurry!"

She scrambles out of the room and up the stairs. Maybe he didn't hear her. The speed with which he appears proves otherwise. "Reim," she pants, "There's a man covered in blood. Hurry, please!"

"Lady Sharon, you shouldn't be here." He's already hurrying down the steps. "Go back."

But she runs back to the stranger's side. Many years from now, when memories become far more important, she'll wonder if it was the clothes. Maybe in her silly girlish thoughts, she had been enchanted by them. But the truth of it is that she has no reason. She goes to his side as naturally as if he's always been in her life.

He's in pain. Her yelling must have woken him up, she realizes. Reim grabs her shoulders. "Stay back!" But he doesn't pull her from the room and she stands over the man's face, hands over her mouth.

His eye is gone. Now that his head is tilted back in agony she can see that clearly. His remaining eye opens. The iris is scarlet. Like blood, she thinks.

His breathing slows. His remaining eye narrows, focusing on Lady Sharon. He looks at her in puzzlement, as if he can't quite believe what he's seeing.

In that moment, she knows she will always be with him.

That one act seems to exhaust him. His body relaxes, his eyes close, the lids that would have covered his missing one droop downward into his skull.

"Lady Sharon, go call the valets. I'll stay here." It takes much insistence on Reim's part before she moves away, her eyes always going back to the blood-covered man. "Go." His fierce whisper finally pushes her upstairs.

She watches as the men she's called lift the stranger. His eye doesn't open, nor does he stir as they carry him up to the Rainsworth's mansion above.

The glares from the grown-ups, the ones who aren't entirely focused on the stranger, tell her she shouldn't follow them. Who knows what kind of man this is? Sharon waits by the door as they lay him down on a bed in a spare room. A valet is sent to her mother to inquire as to directions regarding the stranger, and the rest lean against the wall, arms folded-or sit, fingers laced-waiting, just like her.

She can't leave him.

.

.

.

Lord Sinclair looks the newborn infant over. He smiles. "You have a fine addition to your household, Sir Legnard."

"Thank you, my lord." The knight grins, his eyes darting to his wife, who smiles in spite of her exhaustion.

Don't open your eyes, he prays. Please, little Kevin, don't open your eyes.

"What's his name?" Lord Sinclair asks.

"Kevin, milord. It was my father's name."

"Ah, yes." The lord bounces Kevin lightly as he talks. He's a father himself. "An amazing fighter."

"One of the best."

"And you," Lord Sinclair coos at the infant, "are going to be just as strong."

Kevin opens his eyes.

Sir Legnard feels as if time has stopped, as Lord Sinclair slows in his bouncing, his eyes narrowing on Kevin's scarlet red eyes. "Sir Legnard?"

"The Tragedy of Sablier finished the curse," he replies, the words he's practiced flowing better than when he'd said them in front of the mirror. "Nothing worse than that could happen and nothing has since. Jack Vessalius himself has spoken it."

But Lord Sinclair is old, he reminds himself. His son, Roman, is almost old enough to inherit the title himself. He remembers when a Child of Ill Omen was beaten or starved...or sacrificed.

Lord Sinclair looks down at the infant. Sir Legnard feels his muscles tense, and knows that if his lord tries to take his son away he will not stand quietly by.

Slowly, a smile touches the corners of the Lord's mouth. "He is your son, Legnard. I am certain he will make his father proud." Gently, he hands the infant back to Sir Legnard who fights not to clutch him to his chest in relief.

Still, he and his wife don't breathe until after Lord Sinclair has said his farewells and left their well-kept home. Once the door has shut, he collapses into a chair, still holding his son. He hears his wife whimper and gets up. She wipes tears away and takes their son back with a smile. "Do you think he'll change his mind?"

"He's an honest man." He looks down at his son with unashamed pride. "As long as Kevin serves him well, our son will never have to worry."

He watches with something near awe as his wife pulls their son's head close to hers, breathes in the scent of his hair and nuzzles it. Leaning down, he kisses her gently on the forehead. He doesn't say that if his lord ever does change his mind, he will kill him with his own hands.

This is his, and he will fight to keep it.